Alp Fighter
by Sonea66
Summary: Jasmine got taken to her presumed dead grandfather by her aunt at age 4. He is haunted by his past, but she got through his though exterior. After a near death expirience he decides to teach her in his arts. Gender Bender, SLASH and Het
1. The Bitter Man of the Alps

_**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J. and various publishers. I am in no way trying to make profit with it.**_

**Summary:** _Young Jasmine, also known as Harry or Heidi, got taken to her grandfather, presumed dead, by her hateful aunt at age 4, nearly 5. He was bitter and haunted by his past as a spy and SAS member, as well as undercover assassin. The girl got through that though exterior, becoming the new light in his life, and after a near death experience, he decides to train her in his arts. Hogwarts never knew what hit it._

**Warnings:** _Het and SLASH, gender bender, some violence, some unimportant deaths, rape and I might have forgotten something_

**Inspired by Heidi and Alex Rider**

_**Alp Fighter**_

_The Bitter Man of the Alps_

A thin woman with a long neck, watery blue eyes, stringy, blond hair and a face resembling a horse made her way up a rocky dirt road, viciously dragging with her a little girl, not yet five years old. They were in the Alps, in a part of land, which has yet to be modernized, with cars, television and technology. The villages they came by were peaceful and driven mostly by agriculture.

The girl was small, even for her age, and had a slender build, giving her a petit exterior. Her hair went past her shoulders, lying in gentle waves of sable locks. Behind her fringe hid a pair of beautiful, green eyes, like a leaf in the light, fresh and full of life. When she got angry, they tended to become an icy emerald, relentless and hard. Marring her alabaster skin was a scar the shape of a lightning bolt, resting on her right temple. Nothing she did would work in getting rid of it, not like her other scars. That's why she hid it with her hair. She hated the scar, it made her stand out.

The woman kept her hand around the girl's wrist in a bruising grip, not letting the child rest or drink. Afternoon came, and they arrived in front of a small cottage. Impatiently the woman rapped at the door, wanting to get her business over with. After several minutes of waiting, the girl decided to speak up: "Aunt Petunia, I don't think he is at home." As response she was slapped, hard, and got a tongue lashing.

That was the scene an old, hardened man came home to. "What do you want, Petunia?" His voice was gruff and hoarse, as if seldom used. "This" She pointed rudely at the child. "is your grandchild."

"Doesn't look like yours." He stated. "God, no! The freak is Lily's! I wouldn't give birth to something so ugly!" Her voice was shrill and hurt the ears. The man voiced his thought: "Ugly?" Indeed, the child was by no means unpleasant to look at, with cherubic, angular features, plump, pink lips and long eyelashes, framing breathtaking, expressive eyes. Aristocratic eyebrows completed the picture of an angelic girl with obviously noble roots.

The girl was slapped again. "I told you to stop fooling people into liking you!" Any tries of defending herself, of saying 'no, I didn't do anything' was awarded with a blow to the back of the head. Interrupting another tirade courtesy of the woman, the man spoke coldly: "State your business." "She is going to leave me with you." piped the soothing voice of the girl.

Another resounding slap was heard, followed by an angry: "Don't speak unless spoken to!" "Jasmine, that's her name, was dropped on our doorstep three and a half years ago, with this letter" At this point she procured a letter and handed it over. "Explaining the death of your daughter and her freak husband, and how she needed to stay with someone of blood relation.

Vernon got a promotion and we have to move. Nobody there is going to know our relation to the freak, and it's going to stay that way. Now she is your responsibility.'' He was about to refuse, when something in the eyes of the child stopped him cold. In his usual crude way he asked for the guardianship papers and a pen, signing without much fuss. "She is even more of a freak than her mother." Were her parting words.

There hung an awkward tension in the air between them, neither opting to talk first. They were sitting around the small table that could be found in the hut, only consisting of one room and an attic. There was an outhouse outside, as well as a barrel of rainwater, a spring and a small stable.

Finally the older of the two gave up stalling and asked the first question that came to mind: "What did you do in order for her to hate you more than she hates her sister?" Okay, so it wasn't the best conversation starter. "Because I can do freakish things." Knowing that it probably had something to do with her heritage, he encouraged her to go on: "What?" It came out kind of snappish, but she got the meaning, he thinks.

"Well… I can change things about myself. Even my gender and how old I look, I once made myself claws. And sometimes, when I concentrate enough, things happen. Aunt Petunia says I'm not allowed to talk about it. The weirdest thing is, I can clone myself. The Dursleys don't know that." The man nodded at all the right times, only listening with half an ear, reading the letter.

What he read bothered him. There stood orders of keeping her naïve and meek, of keeping quiet of her heritage and past. So he decided to do the right thing: tell her. "Is that why he called you Harry here? He thinks you are a boy?" "I'm not actually sure whether I am male or female, I could change as long as I remember. Girls get more leeway, so I stay one most of the time."

The old one laughed, and that broke the ice. What proceeded was a conversation with much enlightening truths for the little child. She was a witch, or wizard, was famous, rich and influential. Her parents died protecting her, not in a car crash, as she had been let to believe.

"Lily left a lot of books here with me, you can read them once you know how to." "I know how to read, I taught myself." retorted Jasmine. "It's getting late; let's get you something to eat and a place to sleep."

After eating some bread and molten cheese, together with some warm goat's milk, they made their way up the ladder to the attic. What looked to have been a space a little smaller than the room beneath, turned out to be three big rooms, which actually shouldn't have fit into the hut. One was used for hay, and was also where the ladder ended up. Another room, to the right, looked to be a cross between library and study, filled with books. And the last room was empty, but cool and lofty, filled with windows. Too lofty for a girl to sleep in winter.

A bed was made out of hay in the hayloft, right beneath a porthole. It didn't take long for the grandfather to realize that he might just like the little one. Before long she had him around her little finger. He couldn't stop his eyes from going soft when looking at her. After an exhausting day they both went to bed, dreaming of days to come.


	2. Almost, yet still

_**Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of J. and various publishers. I am in no way trying to make profit with it.**_

**Summary:** _Young Jasmine, also known as Harry or Heidi, got taken to her grandfather, presumed dead, by her hateful aunt at age 4, nearly 5. He was bitter and haunted by his past as a spy and SAS member, as well as undercover assassin. The girl got through that though exterior, becoming the new light in his life, and after a near death experience, he decides to train her in his arts. Hogwarts never knew what hit it._

**Warnings:** _Het and SLASH, gender bender, some violence, some unimportant deaths, rape and I might have forgotten something_

_**Note: While in this chapter there is talk about a vampire loving an underage human, the human does not return these feelings yet, if ever, so there won't be an underage relationship**_

**Inspired by Heidi and Alex Rider**

_Almost, Yet Still…_

Life was good. Jasmine got used fast to living in the mountains. She became good friends with Peter, the goatherd from around here, learned to love her grandfather, let go of any past abuse and enjoyed life in general. It took some getting used to on Richard's, the old man's, part to see more than one Heidi at a time, see her change gender and appearance and her experiments on animal shape shifting. Once she came down the ladder with a pair of wings protruding out of her back, only enhancing her angelic look.

Jasmine came to love the forest, and usually at least one of her was there at all times. Studying became a favorite pastime, both through the books left by Lily, as well as learning what nature had to teach. Time flew by, making it difficult to believe that it had already been one and a half years since she came. She had started school a short while ago, though she rarely went herself, preferring to send a clone. Most of what it taught she already knew, or was inconsequential for life.

She was once again on one of her excursions into the forest, she went further each time, when she slipped and fell down a cliff, spraining her ankle and getting cut on her shoulder, leaking blood. Unable to make the climb with her ankle, she settled for a long wait. It came as a big surprise when not ten minutes later she heard footsteps closing in on her. Soon she spied a head, followed by a body. He was big, both tall and broad, with a lot of muscle. His hair was dirt brown; his face was square and slightly gaunt, with a sickly pale complexion. He was grinning madly, his thin lips twisting, and his prominent nose was bunched up, which had a frightening effect. What truly made Jasmine freeze however was his eyes. They were a bloody red, similar to those haunting her dreams, Voldemort's. This was not him, however, but a vampire, proudly displaying his fangs.

He seemed delighted at seeing her, crowing happily: "Look, a meal!" She tried running, only succeeding in falling down. The girl desperately wanted space between her and the obviously insane and bloodthirsty undead. Contrary to popular believe, not all vampires were bloodthirsty and uncontrolled. It is a kind of disease, which some vampires fall prey for, ruining all coherent thought. It is primarily those that are infected who are found out, giving vampires a bad name. Because there is no cure, Bloodseekers, as they are called, usually get thrown out of the vampire communities. They are easily distinguished by their eyes, as uninfected vampires usually only have specks of red in their iris.

The seeker lunged, binding her with his magic, a brand exclusive to vampires, and proceeded to strip her. Jasmine pleaded to be let go, but he only seemed to relish in the feeling of power that came with it. His nails sharpened, another trait of the tribe of the undead, and he slowly, savoring the moment, dragged it over the breast of the child, lapping up everything of the juice of life flowing out of the wound.

He proceeded to torture the girl without haste, making sure no blood escaped his tongue. Sometime later, when he got bored of the game, he took out his hard member, preparing to invade the innocence of the kid. Out of desperation, the girl morphed, changing her gender to that of a boy. The Bloodseeker didn't care. He was about to mercilessly ram into the small body, tearing him open, making him bleed. While his head invaded the young, tender flesh, he bit into the neck, lying in front of him invitingly. He drank fast, the magic in her blood having an intoxicating effect.

His emotions shut down. Calmly, as if nothing in the world could touch him, he went over what he knew of vampires. Vampires breathe like humans, need a brain like humans, but their heart is only beating when feeding. A slit throat, a damaged head or, at this time, a pike through the heart would do the job. However, their skin is hard as stone, and difficult to break. Slowly, so as not to arouse suspicion, he felt around himself for a weapon. Gripping a sharp stone, he suddenly rammed it in his eye, shoving it in his brain. He died in seconds. Jasmine's, before already blurry sight, became black, having lost a lot of blood.

A tall, handsome man with blond hair, cut short with a small braid in the nape of his neck, and mahogany eyes came by this scene. Sanguine flecks marked him as an undead. He was spellbound. Due to blood loss she reverted back to her original body, that of a girl with wild, black locks, the most amazing green eyes, now drooping shut, cherubic features and alabaster skin. She looked like a fallen angel. Most vampires didn't care for age and sex, for they had ageless bodies and couldn't give birth either way. So he decided that second that she would be his love.

Acting fast, he slit open his finger and fed her his blood. A turning goes through blood exchange. Blood gets taken and blood gets fed. This is what happened here. What the vampire didn't know was that this child was magical. Magic usually battles vampirism, ending in death. It came to his luck that this was no ordinary child, but a rule breaker. With enough magic for Merlin to feel jealous and her Metamorph- and Multianimagi-powers the change was able to end without her dying. The result was skin as hard as stone and a pair of fangs, plus a separate source of magic. That and higher regenerative powers, the reason why this was necessary in the beginning. She was still alive and blood still circulates through her veins, making her neither vampire nor human.

It was a couple of hours later, just after twilight, when Heidi woke up, being cradled protectively in a strong embrace. "Opa1?" Whispered the broken girl into the night. For the longest time there was silence, until, finally, a smooth voice answered:"No."

Her first response was to shy away from the touch, to cover up her modesty. Chopped up pleas bubbled out of her mouth, oblivious to her surroundings. The vampire wanted to do nothing more than to sweep her up in his arms and shield her from the rest of the world. Then, as promptly as it began, it was over. One could practically see her mind doing damage control, piecing together the shattered pieces of a broken mind.

'She is amazing' was all that he could think. She was just raped, made her first kill and nearly died, and already she could function again. It would leave its mark, no doubt, but she would go on, stronger than before. After less than an hour she was coherent enough to state the most pressing question: "Who are you?"

1 German word for Grandpa


End file.
